7
Tanya glanced around the suite.
Chad’s room was obvious by the beautiful Mk 21 sniper rifle he’d leaned inside the door. Not wanting to separate the man from his weapon, she set it outside before closing and locking the door.
The room had its own bath. Not American large, but generous by Colombian standards—not that she cared. She used Chad’s toothbrush. She considered swirling it in the toilet before putting it back on the counter, but she might need it again later. Her own gear was—she couldn’t even remember where at this point.
She stripped slowly. Partly because every muscle was stiff and sore. Partly because she hadn’t slept in long enough that she didn’t want to risk losing her balance accidently and ending up in the toilet herself. The failed attack on the drug lab had been tw
